


Stolen but not Taken

by Dolavine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Domination, Dubious Consent, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Mild Cruelty, Submission, Top Dean, heavy dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:12:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2067711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolavine/pseuds/Dolavine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demon!Dean asserts his sexual dominance over Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen but not Taken

**Author's Note:**

> I totally blame a late night snack and spn conversation with memoonster for this prompt. _demon!dean wouldn’t care if the hole was willing, he’d take any hole he wanted, even Sam’s._ Thanks to the wonderful firesign10 for the quick and awesome beta. (You rock darling.)

First Sam hears the foot steps, quiet and light, then he sees Dean’s silhouette in the doorway and he knows what’s coming. He never fights it, never rails against Dean when he unceremoniously pins him to the bed and roughly takes what he wants. He just lets Dean have his way because once it’s over, Sam can honestly say that Dean never forced himself on him, and it’s more for Dean’s sake-for when he gets him back- than it is for himself.

It started a few months ago… just after he found Dean and well, there was the whole thing where he tried to kill Sam, but then Dean realized Sam was a better ally than murder victim- which was pretty rational thinking for a demon.

Sam fell asleep at the great table in the library and when he woke up, Dean was standing over him, just staring at him with a hungry look in his eye like he was a starving lion and Sam was a sleeping gazelle. 

“Dean?” Sam wipes his eyes, his vision still blurry.

“Who else would it be?” Dean pulls out a chair, slides it next to Sam and sits down.

Sam is getting a weird vibe from Dean. He hasn’t sat next to him or touched him since the night he’d tried to strangle him. “Is there something you want?” Sam doesn’t try to move away, he sits still and never breaks eye contact with Dean’s cold stare.

“You.” He’s very direct and unceremonious about his answers now.

Sam narrows his eyes and tenses his arms in preparation for what might possibly come next, even though he has no clue what it might be. “Me?” He furrows his brow. “And for what?” 

“To fuck you.” Dean’s cold stare turns predatory and he smirks devilishly.

Sam scoffs as if it’s a cruel joke. “I doubt that.”

Dean grabs Sam’s arm. “I remember you begging Dean- me, to fuck you.” There’s a glint in his eye of want, but not need. He licks his lips, then gives Sam a stern pout.

“That was Dean, _you_ I don’t want any part of.” He tugs his arm, but can’t break free of Dean’s grip; he only clenches tighter with each tug.

“You don’t have to want me… _I want you_.” Dean’s fingers tighten on Sam’s arm, and he slides his chair in as close as he can get it, trapping Sam against the table.

“This isn’t a game of cat and mouse, and besides I’m no mouse.” He pushes his chair back against Dean’s leg, but Dean just pushes back harder.

“It isn’t a game- and you are the mouse.” Dean’s hand grabs Sam’s thigh and he spins the chair around to face him. 

Sam struggles at first, his mind going into fight or flight mode and being a Winchester, it’s always fight. “You can’t have what I _won’t_ give you.” Sam’s free hand pushes against Dean’s shoulder, but Dean is steadfast and holding on to Sam with a grip of steel.

“But you do want to give it to me, because you won’t want me to take it. You won’t like it, if I _take_ it from you.”

Sam’s heart sinks to his gut and his mouth goes dry. The tone in Dean’s voice, the darkness growing in his eyes, and the unrecognizable fierceness in his demeanor tells him that there is no Dean left here. 

He quickly assesses the situation and knows that things could get ugly very quickly if he doesn’t apply diplomacy to the situation. “Who says you have to take anything?” Sam relaxes his shoulders and shows a willing resolve.

“It’s better if I have to take it. There usually isn’t a choice in the matter.” Dean’s fingers are still digging into Sam’s softened arm muscle. His hand has moved up to Sam’s crotch and he’s roughly squeezing the flaccid flesh beneath Sam’s jeans.

“You’re offering me a choice?” Sam swallows timidly against the need to reject the rough handling. 

Dean’s eyes are raking over Sam’s body. “There aren’t any choices.” 

“So we are playing without a safe word tonight?” Sam shifts uncomfortably in his chair as his body defies him and his cock starts to harden under Dean’s almost painful squeezes.

Dean smirks, his eyes go fully black and he cocks his eyebrow as he looks directly into Sam’s eyes. “Do you think I’d pay attention to your safe word?” 

Sam can’t help it as fear races up his spine and his jaw clenches slightly. He tries to pass it off as he steadies his nerves to answer with an almost snarky retort. “Probably not, but I thought I’d throw it out there, just in case.” 

“Just so that’s clear.” Dean’s hand has moved over to his own crotch, he’s stroking the hard line pushing through the denim of his jeans.

Sam doesn’t want to look as he hears the sound of Dean’s buttons being opened on his jeans, but he can’t help it, his eyes go right there.

“You always liked this cock.” Dean pulls it out and strokes up and down the shaft. 

“When I liked who owned it.” Sam looks back up into Dean’s eyes.

“You don’t have to like me, or what I’m going to do to you, but you do have to take it.” 

Dean’s words cut to the bone and his heart aches for his brother. “Then stop teasing and do it.” Sam’s words are sharp. He opens his jeans and shoves them off of his hips.

“Okay,” is all Dean says. The word is unfeeling and dark as he grabs Sam by the shoulders and pulls him up into a standing position before yanking his jeans below Sam’s knees.

Sam’s caught off guard, he didn’t think it would be like this, but it is and he can’t do anything about it.

“Bend over.” Dean commands as he shoves Sam over the table, his face hitting the hardwood with a thud. 

Dean’s hand is wrapped around the back of Sam’s neck, his thumb shoved into the soft waves of hair at the nape of his neck, and he strokes softly. Sam’s surprised at the gentle touch.

 

“Spread your legs.” He kicks Sam’s feet, but they only go as far as the jeans will let them and Dean grunts an unappeased sound. “That’ll have to do.”

Sam swallows hard, he tries to relax himself, make himself want what is about to happen, but he doesn’t- he’ll just accept it. He relaxes his knees and bends them a bit, his cock is hitting the underside of the table. He can’t believe he’s still hard, and he curses silently in his head at his defiant body.

Dean rubs his thumb over Sam’s tight hole. “Very tight.” He pokes his thumb inside. The dry flesh catches on his skin and Sam shifts a little with the uncomfortable touch. Dean smiles, squeezes a little harder on Sam’s neck. “Don’t move,” he commands as he shoves his thumb in a little deeper, more forcefully.

“ _SHIT!_ Sam hisses out; his teeth are gritted tight and his eyes squeezed shut as he tries hard to exhale slowly as he relaxes himself. His cock twitches when he feels Dean hit his prostate, and he hates that for an instant something deep inside of him felt good.

Dean pulls out and wipes his thumb on Sam’s shirt before reaching around and shoving it into Sam’s mouth. “Get it wet.” 

Sam’s relieved when he feels Dean’s thumb pop out, but only seconds later has the foul digit’s shoved into his mouth. He gags a little and a large amount of saliva coats it, but he refuses to suck it as Dean wiggles it over his tongue, trying to urge him to do so. 

“You’re worthless,” he says, pulling his thumb out and shoving it back into Sam’s ass. 

_”Fuck you.”_ Sam says in his head as he relaxes against the warm wet pressure easing into him this time. He wants to rock against it, ride it, but he fights the urge to enjoy anything this Dean is giving him.

Dean pulls out again; he flips Sam over and shoves him to his knees. He puts his cock at Sam’s lips, holding his head still by threading his fingers through his hair and gripping tightly. “Get it good and wet or it’s going to hurt so bad you’ll think I’m tearing you apart.” 

 

Sam looks up into Dean’s lust blown eyes. He remembers them when they were kinder, softer, and more human than what he sees now. Dean pushes his head forward, the head of his cock smashing into Sam’s face. He opens his mouth and lets Dean put his cock into it so that he can do what he has to.

Sam’s mouth fills with thick saliva as Dean harshly pumps into it. He gags and sucks, trying to keep up with the brutal plunges as Dean forces his cock to the deepest parts of Sam’s protesting throat. When he finally pulls out, Sam’s breathless and sick, his jaw hurts, and his lips are swollen. Dean’s cock is dripping with spit and mucus.

“Good boy.” He smirks and then pulls Sam up and shoves him over the table again. He pins him down by shoving a knee between his long bent legs and trapping his cock to the underside of the table. “Stay still.” He reinforces the need to be in command.

He doesn’t do any more prep, doesn’t put another finger inside of him, he just spreads Sam’s round cheeks and pushes inside of the tight ring. Sam gasps, his body goes rigid and he can barely breathe from the intense sharp burning as Dean finally bottoms out then quickly starts to pump long, fast, jack hammering thrusts into his unprepared ass.

Sam grips the edge of the table, his fingers white knuckling it as he grips his feet to the floor. His cock is roughly grinding against the grainy underside of the table as Dean slams into him, his body jerking and the table is inching forward with each cruel thrust. _It’ll be over soon,_ he keeps telling himself as he endures the torture. 

Dean’s gripping Sam’s neck, holding him in place- face planted on the table; knees bent and body completely his for the taking. “You… like… this.” Dean grunts out as he slams into Sam, his eyes black as ink, and his teeth gnashing as he enjoys his work.

Sam pushes back, his body still hurting but finding some sort of pleasure in the collage of pain. He shoves back, pushes into Dean’s body and squeezes his ass tight over Dean’s cock. “Yes,” he grunts out. He’s lying, but he can’t give Dean the satisfaction of taking him without knowing that Sam let him do it. 

Sam consoles himself with the tender touch of Dean’s soft stroking at the nape of his neck. Closes his eyes and lets himself believe that it’s his brother fucking into him.

“Then you’ll love this.” Dean digs his fingers into Sam’s ass cheek, his nails biting the flesh and drawing blood as he releases Sam’s neck only to bring that hand down flat across the opposite cheek with a brutal smack.

“FUCK!” Sam screams. His body jerks forward, his trapped cock pulling under the pressure of Dean’s knee, and he comes hard and unexpectedly as Dean’s cock brutalizes his swollen prostate. 

Sam’s orgasm is involuntary but he can’t control his body’s natural submission to Dean.

“Good boy.” Dean’s words are condescending as he pushes in a few more times before coming thick and hot inside of Sam’s ass. “Like to be filled up?” He laughs like he’s the cat that ate the canary. 

Sam doesn’t respond, his body simply goes limp with the relief that Dean’s stopped moving. When he pulls out, Sam moans at the tender muscle and tissue being pulled outward. 

“You’re loose now.” He admires Sam’s gaping abused hole as his come drips out of it. He runs his thumb through the mess. “Here, have some.” He shoves his thumb into Sam’s sore mouth again and makes him taste the come.

Sam hisses as the bitter mess is spread over his tongue and lips.

Dean laughs. “You’ll learn to like it.” He wipes his hand on Sam’s back and then tucks himself away before leaving.

Sam falls to his knees, his body sore, abused and wrecked. He tells himself its okay, he let Dean have this, gave him his body, but only because when he gets his brother back, Dean won’t have anything to feel guilty about.

The End


End file.
